


The Pretty Things

by spaceyloser



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys in Skirts, Complete, Dresses, Drug Use, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Parents, Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, M/M, Makeup, Original Character(s), Phanfiction, Skirts, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 13,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8258237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceyloser/pseuds/spaceyloser
Summary: Dan wears dresses, and skirts, and make-up. It makes him feel more confident as a person, despite still identifying as a man. Dan's policy, as of two years, is that you don't need a man to be happy. So what happens when a cute football player moves to the area and is always slamming his locker so hard that Dan's books fall off his shelves?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a soft spot for clothes, but I can't afford nice ones and clothes in my size seem to not exist. So I'm living vicariously through this fic. Hi. I'm spaceyloser and I complain about clothes but don't care enough to do hair & make-up.

The most tragic thing in my tragic life is that my best friend (only friend) is a football fanatic. I have no idea how it even happened. One minute, she's a happy thirteen-year-old and the next she's all about field goals or whatever. So when the best player in the history of the surrounding schools was coming to our shitty public school, I got a fucking ear full.

"His name is Phil Lester and he is hot as the underneath of my tits because this cheap ass school's air conditioning broke." Kyla's always been delightfully colorful.

"So I've heard." My voice was short and clipped and I hopped to end this conversation quickly. Lunch was the only time that I had to be free of the never ending chains the teachers stab into your skin and pull you around with.

"What's wrong? He's hot! Look at the photo!" I've already seen the photo ten times, that didn't stop Kyla from shoving it into my face again. It's of a sixteen-year-old boy just after winning some match. He's sweaty and there's a sun glare. I don't care.

"Yep that's a boy, he has a penis." I shifted uncomfortably on the always ominously sticky cafeteria bench. My dress was a bit too big for me. A sandy beach color that flowed like waves to my knees. A cropped gray cardigan over it paired with brown and sandstone colored strappy sandals and a light pink headband on my head that had a tiny bow on it. Today is a neutral kind of day. And I'm a slut for different shades of tan and grey.

"Yeah, but he also has talent, and, he's single." I squinted my nose, at her, at the "mashed potatoes" they were serving. My natural face is a grimace.

 

"How would you even know that, Kyla the Creep?"

 

"Facebook. His girlfriend of three months changed her status to single. Phil doesn't have Facebook." _Good for him, now leave me alone I'm trying to eat poison_.

I'm pretty sure school food is on the top ten list of popular suicide attempts. Number one is listening to Kyla talk about sports.

 

"So he's coming here, to St. Depressing and Too Hot!" Kyla exclaimed, causing the robot geeks to turn around and stare at her tits for a solid minute.

 

"WOW! Oh my god, Kyla! You're right! This is exciting!" I threw up my hands just to push the mocking further, I'm a dick.

 

Kyla wasn't having it. "I know! It's sooooooo good to be excited about boys again!" She threw that in my face as she faked a smile and got up to dump our trays. Kyla always does mine for me because of...my anxiety.

 

After lunch, I headed straight to my locker. I frowned when I saw another boy in the one next to mine. My ugly orange locker is at the end of a long row of lockers, and that one has been empty sense freshman year. I glared at the back of his head as I placed my math book away.

The boy looked over to me, and I was surprised to see a smiling face looking at mine. I only had light makeup on today, not doing anything to boost the confidence.

He looked away and slammed his locker shut, and at that moment, all my books came tumbling off my shelves and onto the floor. And he didn't appear to notice. Earbuds in or maybe he's another bully. Just what I need. I picked up my books and angrily shoved them into my locker while staring at the back of his head. He turned a corner.

Fucking prick.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some drug use in the chapter nothing major

The next week, I would be greeted every morning to all my textbooks tumbling out of the bottom of my locker, and the asshole's head of black hair turning a corner. I haven't been able to catch him, but if I did, i'd bitch him out like he's never been bitched out before. Kyla has been shrieking about Phil Lester at the same time. its been a shitty week and I still haven't managed to locate the infamous Phil Lester.

My leggings were slightly damp from being pushed down into some pre-winter slush, even though its like October. Twelve-year-old boys on bikes swerving, not caring about me or the ninety-year-old women they almost ran down. She looked ready to chase them down.

"Fucking Youths!" She yelled down the freezing road. Same.

I was freezing, annoyed, and ready to murder by the time I reached my doorstep. Kyla was already at my house, surprise surprise.

"Dan?" Mother called from the kitchen. She was standing by the stove stirring something in a pot, my mom, Amy, had her arms around my mother, Carrie's waist. Disgustingly lovingly and they somehow diminished my murderous mood.

"Hey."

"Oh my god, you're soaking! Go get changed, what are you a fucking idiot?" Mom started yelling at me in Spanish about getting pneumonia and I scurried upstairs. Kyla somehow beat me upstairs and was already rummaging through my closet.

"Kyla, what the holy hell do you think you're doing?" I mumbled while looking in my mirror. The cold is not good for makeup. Or maybe I'm just bad for makeup. I looked like a trainwreck. Like cracked pavement.

"We're going over to Maria's."

"Maria?"

"Yeah, Maria. Art class Maria. She's having people over from art and drama club for pizza and The Vampire Diaries." Kyla rolled her eyes at me, as if it was obvious and threw my old leather jacket from eight grade at me. I raised my eyebrows up her and held it up,

"This is _not_ proper pizza and Netflix attire. What are we really doing?" Kyla just smirked and winked at me.

"You'll see."

* * *

 

Two lies to my parents, fresh makeup and outfit later, I'm downtown with Kyla and drama and art kids in the back allies of London.

Red lipstick and winged eyeliner, I anticipated something like this as soon as Kyla pulled out my old leather jacket. Skinny jeans and killer red heels, I could kill a man with a single look. I guess I was feeling very confident for once.

Maria was leading the crowd and suddenly we were climbing a fire escape. We all climbed all the way to the top of the building and onto the roof. There were probably twenty of us and I held up the rear with Kyla and an awkward drama freshman. I passed a couple twenty-something guys smoking pot, one of them winked at me, making my confidence sky rocket.

The rooftop was full of plants, and football players. Smoking pot and breakdancing. Maria walked straight over to one of the boys and plucked the joint right out of his mouth. That's what they're called right? I'm so lame.

"Yoooo who brought the Howeller?" He was so stoned he sounded like a stereotypical pothead.

"Shut it, Lame ass. Dan's with us."

"Looking like that? Definitely welcome," someone yelled from the crowd, sounding husky and slightly northern.

 

Within two minutes every sat in their designated corners getting high. Some people were dancing to the nineties music. Kyla was sitting with Maria and Maria's boyfriend Anderson. I was hiding behind a plant, possibly getting high from second hand smoke, if that's even possible.

"Hey, you're looking pretty lonely over here." I looked up and made eyes with...with _fucking locker boy._

I shrugged and said nothing, he had a joint in his hand, I didn't take him for a druggy. But I didn't Kyla either.

Locker boy sat down next to me and but the joint in his mouth, after a few moments be lightly breathed out smoke. And goddamn, the smoke and the beautiful boy mixed with street lights, it was too movie and too aesthetic to be real. Beautiful asshole.

"Here." He grabbed my hand and placed the drugs in it.

"Peer pressure?"

Locker boy smirked at me, "You're cute. Have a good night, Dan." Beautiful asshole left me there, a lit blunt and streetlights, I placed the drugs between my lips in breathed in lightly. Closing my eyes, I opened my senses and felt _everything._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some song lyrics hold new worlds, and some are completely empty. But some, some are whole new kind of emptiness that's sadder than the rest. Messages and meanings, there's a difference, isn't there?

The night had winded down and everyone seemed to have left. Kyla laid with her head in a plant, but she was breathing, so that was something. By two AM, I realized my parents are probably worried sick about me and that I'd definitely be grounded for life as soon as they got their hands on me. So, I came down from my high feeling the familiar emptiness and the bitter wind that you could only get from high elevation. I sat on the edge of the building, my feet dangling over the edge. My high heeled boots were shielding me from the wind, even if they are impractical for anything other than stripping.

This is one of those fake places. The places that don't seem real, like its all in your head. Like one AM McDonalds and small watering holes in the forest. Fairy homes, my mother would call them. Maybe that means I'll live there one day.

If I fell over the edge, it would be it. I'd die for sure. Damn, I haven't looked in a mirror in hours, but I looked good when I left. Looking good while leaving the world is something I dream of. Call me shallow, I love the attention.

Because I'm attending a fairy party at one of those fake places, I didn't flinch when someone sat down next to me. Skinny Jeans and high tops, It's beautiful asshole, locker boy. He left ages ago. Maybe I'm still high. Maybe that's okay because he's nice to look at.

"You're still here."

"So are you.' My voice was light and musical and didn't sound like myself at all. I'm ready to go, I could. But he's here.

"I live here."

"On the roof?" He giggled, so I giggled too. Soon it was a fest of giggles that could get intense enough to send us over the edge. Maybe I'm already over the edge.  

"Nah, in the apartments with my sister."

"That's more practical." and we were giggling again, he sounded like a song that's been sung for centuries, suddenly the building seemed very high.

I heard Kyla stir, and a potted plant get knocked over.

"Kyla yours? Or just a babysitter?" I smiled at him, locker boy.

"Babysitting. Kids can be a real handful." He nodded at me, smiling out at the city.

"Nights go on forever." He mumbled quietly.

"Days are an eternity." Locker boy looked over and smiled. Song lyrics. Some hold entire conversations.

I heard Kyla stand, a string of swear words emitting from her mouth. How the holy hell am I suppose to get her down a fire escape. "Daaaaaan!" Kyla whined, I sighed loudly.

"Coming" I turned back to him sadly, "duty calls."

I stood and he did as well and reality hit me and the fairy place lost its gleam and I had a responsibility again.

"I guess I'll see you around, Dan." He smirked at me and I realized I still didn't know his name.

"Yes, and does the beautiful boy have a name?" He chuckled at his smile made my heart melt.

"Phil Lester. See you around, princess."

 

_Phil Lester._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this problem with switching from present tense and past tense, it bugs the hell out of me.

When I got home that night, I had a boy on my mind, an exhausted Kyla, and no phone. Just my luck. My mother cursed me out for being home late. 

Whenever her and and my mom fight, my mom always starts to yell in Spanish and my mother in Japanese. They always just start laughing because neither know what the other is saying. Its a good system. 

Kyla was still asleep in my bed when I informed my mom I didn't have my phone. 

"Jesus Christ Dan! You're suppose to be responsible!" Her voice was shrill and angry, nothing like her at all. She's going easy on me though. Mother would be much angrier. 

"I know, I'm sorry, I know where I left it. I'll just go get it-"

"No. I'll drive you."

"Mooooom! That's really not necessary!" 

"You want your phone back? Get in the car, Daniel." 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This is where the party was?" She eyes the building warily, like it might blow up at any second. 

"I wouldn't really call it a party..." Mom rolled her eyes at me and got out of the car. I felt like I was going to blow up at any second."

"Shut up, lets just get your phone and get home. Carrie is working late at the shop, bridesmaids dresses or something." Mom didn't look at me as she headed for the door of the building. 

"Mom?" I called quietly, I'm going to get my ass kicked. 

"Do you remember what room it was in?" She held the door open for me expectantly.

"The roof." I mumbled quietly, she didn't hear me.

"What?"

"The roof." She heard me. RIP Daniel James Howell. 

"The fucking roof, Dan? Are you fucking serious!" She placed a hand on her forehead and laughed bitterly, "and how, dare I ask, did you get on this roof, Daniel?" I felt like I shrunk ten sizes as I pointed to the fire escape, and she was yelling again. 

-

Mom muttered complaints the whole way up the fire escape, I told her she didn't have to come up with me but she insisted. If she sees one joint, i'm done for. She's a lawyer, she'll lecture me for days. 

When we finally got to the roof, mom instantly whipped her phone out to call mine. Obviously wanting to get off the roof fast. She has a terrible fear of heights, not that she'd ever admit it. The familiar ringtone sang out, Halsey singing Young God. 

We followed the sound to behind a plant and my eyes locked on a pale hand holding my phone. My eyes traveled up to familiar black hair. Phil.

"You found it." Phil's head snapped up, the sun was in his face but he maintained eye contact. 

"Hey" when Phil saw mom he scrambled up and smiled at her. "Hi, I'm Phil Lester."

She gave him her lawyerly onceover, to decide if he's a criminal or not. "Hello, I'm Dan's mom." You could obviously see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out how this beautiful women with perfect dark skin is related to my pasty ass. No one brought it up.

Awkward silence fell over us until Phil awkwardly handed my phone out to me. "Guess this is yours then." 

I furrowed my brows at it. I must have forgot my mother was there. "No it's missing something."

"What? What's missing?" I smirked down at him.

"Your phone number."


	5. Chapter 5

Mom teased me, and teased me, and fucking teased me until I thought about ripping her tongue out.

"No its missing something, your phone number." She giggled the whole way home, almost causing several accidents, "Fuck Dan I can't even be mad at you. That's just too damn funny."

I texted Phil: _So you have my number too :)_

Innocent smiley face that I thought about changing too a winky face for a bit too long. My phone dinged and mom _roared._

"He's texting you? After that line? Oh sweet baby Jesus what kind of boy did I raise? You got my damn confidence, shit. Your mother always feared that would happen." I changed Phil's contact name to "textbook boy" and ignored my mother. "Oooooo Kyla is still at home, I can't wait to tell her this!"

* * *

"Smooth, Danny boy. Real smooth." Mom snapped her fingers, her face held extreme concentration.

"What was his name? Fuck, Dan help me out here." My phone dinged as if on cue. Kyla and I's eyes whipped towards each other, and suddenly, we were wrestling for the phone. During the struggle, mom laughed and laughed and I managed to get tangled in my long green skirt. My phone dinged again, Phil definitely. We haven't stopped texting. It's mostly been sarcastic and semi-flirty. Nice, really.

Kyla pried the phone out of my hands and held it up, grinning in triumph. Kyla looked at the screen and frowned, "Who the fuck is Textbook Boy?" I had told her, many times, about the kid that constantly fucks up my locker. She's been so clouded by Phil that she hasn't listened.

"Kyla, language." Mom warned as I struggled to escape my skirt.

"Ooooo...there has been a lot of flirting."

"We're not...It's not..." As embarrassing as it was I was out of breath from my fucking skirt.

"Tell me who it is or I'll show these to your mom, or worse, _you're mother."_ Mom is one thing, she'll tease me, well, forever. But mom will _demand_ to know everything. She'll stage a goddamn investigation. She wanted to be a detective, originally.

"Okay! It's Phil Lester. We met on the roof last night and I saw him this morning." Kyla had a dejected look about her as she dropped my phone onto my chest and walked out the front door. Mom looked a little guilty and I felt like the definition of shit. My phone beeped again. I felt a little better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a very long talk last night to my cousin about writing, it was nice and needed. I'm not happy with everything about this chapter. I feel like I write so much but then there is hardly anything there. It's frustrating.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my tHIRD TIME WRITING THIS CHAPTER HOLY FUCK I'M SORRY OKAY IT'S BEEN BAD.

Phil was sending me pictures of him and his orange tabby, Milk. I screenshotted one but told him it was just an aesthetic picture of Milk.

Kyla wasn't talking to me. Calls, texts, no answer. I was pacing, mom was yelling. Mother had fallen asleep on mom's shoulder while they watched an old black and white movie. Mother is really into those cliché romances, now matter how many times she argues that she isn't.

By ten, Phil was picking on my snapchat name, TheQueenIsSoDone.

"You're so-"

"So?"

"Different." There is no way mom could've seen my blush but she smirked like she did.

* * *

By midnight, mom had fallen asleep to and I had my slippers on and mom's keys in hand, ready to storm her house. I was about to open the door when the doorbell went off. Mother jumped up, yelling something incoherently, causing mom to go flying, a string of Spanish swear words falling from her lips.

Kyla stood at the door. "Jesus Kyla? Ever heard of calling first?" Mother was cuddled up to mom in the walkway, she is so incredibly whiny at night, I don't know how mom puts up with it. Kyla shrugged and walked straight up to my room. I was surprised she didn't use the spare key under the garden gnome like usual.

I sent a quick text to Phil, explaining to him that I had to go.

**PhilTheLion: Okay! Goodnight! :)**

The smiley face made me smile too. As I entered my room, Kyla was laying on my bed messing with her phone. Probably facebook. She has a weird obsession with it that I really don't understand.

"Kyla I'm so sorry-"

"Shut up. Not necessary. Check this out." Kyla held her phone up to me. Whenever Kyla needs to rant she comes to me. Usually under better circumstances.

What she wanted to show me was messages with some guy. I sat down next to her, her long purple hair covered most of the bed. "Who is it?"

"Shaun Fields? Swimmer? Hot! He messaged me out of know where. Flirting, a lot of it." Kyla smiled at her phone and proceeded to show me several messages. After things died down I took the opportunity.

 

"Kyla I-"

"Dan, its fine. No hard feelings. I liked him but he likes you. That's obvious. I do remember some things about the roof, and there's a lot of flirting." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "I heard things, that he likes guys. I was just hoping it wasn't true. He's very hot." She grinned mischievously at me, "but Shaun is hotter." I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Not by a long shot.

 

"Besides." Kyla started again, not looking up from her phone. "I wanted him for his dick anyway. I hear he is huge."

"KYLA!."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize. I wrote this chapter twice and both times it came out well and took a while to write. It got deleted twice. I'm frustrated and I just wanted to put out a chapter I'm sorry that its not what it was. All that damn work. Its my fault, I'm an idiot with this stuff. I'm so damn upset. Writing this whole thing was physically painful and I just want to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is literally about Phil's dick. Phil's dick is the answer to the universe.

I couldn't stop. It's stupid, but since Kyla said something its all I can think about.

So here I am, the world history teacher is droning and all I can do is stare at Phil Lester's crotch.

The most flirting we have done has been minor stuff. Twelve-year-old recess flirting. But I couldn't help but think, is it really big?

Am I envious? Is that what this is? The skirts and dresses I wear are usually pretty short, nothing like Phil could wear...or Phil could supposedly wear...

And now I was thinking about Phil's legs in my tight black pencil skirt and it made me all more curious. Sometimes rumors are true.

In fourth grade everyone thought I was gay, and look at me now.

Today, my dress was short but summery because of the weirdly warm temperatures. White with sunflower pattern that my mother designed just for me, as she knows how much I love sunflowers. I paired it with too high wedges. I'm already a giant, these make me a fucking mammoth. The things I do for fashion.

The dress stuck at the waist and fell loose around my thighs, the waist was high-waisted, making it even shorter. Probably too short for Phil...and now all I could think about is Phil in a short sundress, maybe on a breezy day, _hanging out_ with me...

I didn't realize I was still staring until someone snickered and kicked the leg of my chair. My eyes tore away from Phil's area and to the front of the room. Mr. Crawford was staring at me sternly. He never really did like me.

"Mr. Howell, eyes front." Phil had realized what had happened and risked detention or possible murder by getting his phone out.

_**Am I blocking the view? ;)** _

Cheeky bastard. He saw me staring.

_**Could you? ;)** _

I obviously wiped the confidence right out of Phil and he squirmed in his seat and slid his phone back into his pocket, letting his hand linger there for a second.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited because I'm a professional.

Phil walked out of school with me that day. We texted during lunch and I invited him over because I'm fucking insane. Kyla said simply that she does not enjoy porn and will not be coming over. She didn't give me a chance to reply as she sauntered away pleased with herself.

Phil and I chattered happily about Mrs. Glenn and her runny makeup. It was breezy and light and it seemed like an illusion. Nothing has ever been this easy. It's like we were old friends catching up.

"Hey! Howeller!" Like I said, nothing is every easy. As a child, mom told me I should stick up for myself. That getting walked all over will make me forgettable. I think I'm pretty unforgettable already. They call me Howeller because freshman year my dick of an ex boyfriend told them I moan like a porn star.

As they neared, several of them started to moan obscenely and make rude gestures with their hands. My mother would've slapped them. Phil gaped at them, poor thing. Still not used to the display. Maybe they'll scare him away from me. Maybe it's for the best. Like I said, it's too easy.

"Nice dress, Howeller." Todd, douche one said.

"Thanks Todd! I love your sneakers! You really like to show off you're a nineties kid, huh?" Douches two through five screamed at my remark, like something an annoying Viner would do when someone got snarky.

"I don't need to take this from some fa-"

"Fashion expert!" I cut him off, no slurs around me. "You should take my advice, those shoes are so old they should be getting social security." Phil couldn't help but laugh at my remark, the musical laugh was soon followed by all the douches yelling ROASTED at the top of their lungs.

I grabbed Phil's wrist and steered him away from the crowd that was now ragging on their friend. I don't like to go after someone's appearance, lord knows I get enough of it. I took the easy route just then. There were many other things I could've said that weren't as hurtful.

* * *

Phil went on and on on the way home. Apparently someone recorded it and posted on Facebook.

Neither of my parents are home. Apparently they both have busy weeks. A huge murder scandal is going to trial and there's a wedding dress to design.

Phil and I didn't star in any porn, much like Kyla expected. We just did homework and then talked and at one pointed he laced his fingers through mine and a bomb went off. At six my mother came home and Phil and I stopped being so touchy. He politely made conversation with her about school and work and then he promptly said he had to get going.

"Let me walk you to the door." So I followed him out and he stood on my front steps in the dark looking beautiful and that's when he did it. He leaned up and placed a kiss on my cheek and smiled at me, without one word, he slipped off into the night.

 

 

"I saw you." Mother said smiling widely in the doorway.

"What?"

"I saw you, I'm telling Amy and Kyla." She whipped out her phone and began texting rapidly. "There, done."

"You didn't just text them both that fast." Her phone dinged and she picked it up and giggled at it.

"We have a group chat."

"Why do you have a group chat with my best friend?" Honestly, Kyla, I'm not even surprised. She looked up at me and stared at me.

"To talk about how annoying you are." She said in Japanese, laughing in my face before texting and heading upstairs.

 

After she had gone I pressed a hand to my cheek. She hadn't even given me a chance to enjoy it. He's so cute.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what this is.

I have been afraid of beginnings my entire life. Which may seem pointless to some of you, as life is made up of beginnings. Many people fear death, which is unavoidable. You are born, the start, and you die, the end. Yes, endings are final. In the end, there is no going back. Its the end. Beginnings always lead up to ends, maybe I am spewing nonsense, but that is what I am made up of. Annoying gibberish.

The beginning of everything for you personally is your birth. In your life, you have no idea how you could turn out. Or your child. You could give birth, and there would be no guarantee that the child won't be a serial rapist.

Also, when you start something, you have no clue how long it will last. It could all end in flames, or worse, you could slowly drift from it. And maybe this is why I'm so hesitant towards any relationships. A girl tried to become my friend six months ago and I ignored her until she would leave me alone. Maybe it is because I was so ready for a romance, I jumped onto the first guy that looked at me twice my freshman year. When I found out he was poison it ended in flames and tears and blood.

I feel like I didn't get a choice to begin this journey, this journey of heartbreak and torment. Because I didn't, that is probably why I fear beginnings.

This is what I tried to convey to Phil as we sat on the roof again, two am nonsense. Nothing to say and nothing to hear, but he ate it up anyway. Word by word, not exactly understanding what I meant but its alright, understanding isn't something we're ready to start. Just listening. For now, listening is all we need.

* * *

We were never just friends, so when we left the grey area I wasn't notified right away. Eventually the idiocy and nonsense faded from our voices and he rested his head on my shoulder. Without giving it a second thought I began to stroke his hair.

The biggest beginning I ever decided to, well, began, was to close myself off. I had been hurt and that was enough. _Weigh us down, we're in love._

I had known him, I had known him for years. We started kindergarten in the same class. Back then he was just a kid, and so was I. He said he fell in love with me within two weeks of our relationship. He said he liked that I dressed like a girl and that I practically was one anyway. I look back on it and think it was just his way of experimenting, of testing the homosexual waters with me, who dresses "like a girl."

At one point I stopped petting Phil's hair and he laced his fingers through my own. I told him the Story of Dylan. It was a dark time for everyone except Dylan. Kyla hated him, right from the start. Mom did too, but mother loved him, she always loved the thought of me having my own fairytale romance like her and mom. Well, better than her and mom.

Phil ran his thumb over my hand and said that Dylan didn't deserve someone as amazing and kind as myself, and I asked him who he had been hanging around.

Church bells rang out and the wind sliced through our skin but we weren't on the roof anymore. We were both in our own life spiral, staring at where they intersect. As of right now, it is our hands.

Phil's holding something in. Maybe a bad relationship, maybe it's why his parents don't live with him. Maybe its something completely different.

As the sun started to rise, another beginning started. Phil stood up and pulled me up too, making sure our hands were still intertwined.

He told me he liked this, and I said that I did too.

He placed a kiss on the corner of my mouth and my heart raced.

Another beginning.


	10. Chapter 10

We had climbed back down the fire escape, the magic of being out late started to fade as we descended back to Earth. Phil held open the window to his apartment, being a gentleman and letting me go first. I held onto my skirt so it wouldn't get caught and turned around to help Phil through. The kitchen and living room were all one area and as we turned around we saw someone dancing around in the kitchen, pouring milk with shaky hands into a bowl.

Phil shut the window hard, making her jump and face us. "Vicky, dammit, you're just getting home?" Vicky, his sister. She looked just like him. Sort of like a doll, but her eye makeup was smeared and her lipstick was smudged, big night it seems. She pointed towards the window and back at Phil.

"So are you!" Her words were slurred and that's when I noticed the pungent smell of alcohol clouding the room.

"We were on the roof, where were you?" As soon as Phil said "we" she seemed to notice me. She glanced at my face and her eyes widened, hell, my makeup probably looks like hers. Her eyes traveled down my body and back up to my face. I snuck a glance at Phil and realized some of my purple lipstick was on his cheek. Damn cheap brand, but it goes with my outfit.

"You-You're the-the most bea-beaut-beautiful person I've seen!" She stumbled through her words and completely ignored Phil's question. Even though they were the ramblings of a drunk person, I still took the compliment to heart. She ran up to me quickly, the drink somehow didn't mess up her footing, or her nine inch heels.

"I-I need to-to photograph you!" Phil decided then that he had enough and grabbed her hands,

"bed time, dear sister." Vicky whined in protest but was easily led away.

He came back looking frazzled but also relived, I realized a great deal of his time goes into worrying.

"Sorry about that, she is usually home by midnight but I guess tonight was a particular celebration of youth." I asked him what he meant by that and he rolled his eyes, "Vicky thinks you can't go out and party after a certain age, I think its early thirties for her. She says she needs to celebrate her life before it becomes a funeral." Phil shook his head, stretched, and yawned loudly. It's the first time he looked tired.

"What did she mean by "I have to photograph you?"

"She works for a fashion magazine, photographs models and writes columns and such. She probably thinks you're a model." Phil smiled and took a step forward, "You're definitely prettier than most." I blushed,

"Shut up." Phil frowned at me and shook his head.

"I will not, I will compliment you until you believe me, and I'll continue after that."

* * *

 

I was tangled in Phil's bedsheets when I woke up, but I was also tangled in Phil, and Phil's clothes, which he is never getting back.

Phil groaned loudly and moved closer to me when I tried to sit up. I laughed at his distraught face, eyes shut tightly, eyebrows pinched together. "It's time to get up, love." I winced at how easily the nickname fell from my tongue but it seemed to get his attention.

"Mmm morning."

 

After a lot of pleading and convincing, I managed to get the big baby out of bed. Phil lazily walked towards the kitchen, his hand clutching mine lightly, it was better than a coffee.

Vicky was seated on the couch, a bowl of cereal in hand, she dropped her spoon dramatically when she saw me, wincing as the clinking sound rang out. She nearly spilled her cheerios as she jumped up from the couch, pointing at me as she did last night.

 

"Vick-" Phil started warningly,

"You're the guy, from last night! You're still here! I thought it was a dream! I thought there is no way in _hell_ I'd find the perfect model, but he's standing in my bloody lounge, holding my brothers hand!" She looked ready to cry, puke, and praise Jesus all at once.

 

"Vicky, what the hell do you mean?"

"There's a photoshoot in a couple days, I had short notice to find a model, it's a real big deal. It's for like a darker like purple and black thing...idk how to explain it, my boss was on A LOT of ecstasy when she came up with it." We just stared at her, she literally said "idk" out loud. I might puke.

 

"Vicky listen Dan's not a-" Vicky looked ready to sob, she ran up and literally dropped at my feet pleading. Here I was, awkwardly tall, wearing a grey football sweatshirt and Phil's star wars pajamas, makeup smeared down my fucking face, and there's a women begging at my feet for me to model.

"Please! It doesn't matter you're not a model! You can be! It pays well! Ple-e-easssee." Phil looked ready to yell when I finally spoke up,

"Fine! Fine I'll do it, please get up." She jumped, beaming at me.

"Give me your number! I'll text you the info, also, you're a minor so you need a parent there and a signature.

"I'll give you his number later, Vick. Let us just have breakfast first." Vicky frowned but let us pass anyway. What even has this day been?  


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yell at me in the comments about typos. I'm a wreck.

Kyla and mom screamed simultaneously when I told them. I couldn't tell mom the whole truth because I said I was at Kyla's. Not off to flirt with some boy who is kind of existential and seemed to like I too am kind of existential. Mother cursed at them but mom only yelled louder.

"My baby is going to be a model!" Mom yelled, grabbing me and hugging me tightly. I tried to tell her it's just a small photoshoot but I couldn't get it out, with her crushing my lungs and everything.

"Mine too!" Kyla screeched, wrapping her arms around me like mom.

"Not mine." Mother said, her voice monotone and low. She walked up to me, a bored expression on her face. Kyla and mom released me and stared at mother, oh god, she's not going to let me do this.

Suddenly, she reached up and pinched my cheek, her face cracking into a wide grin. "My son is going to be a model. He's not a baby anymore." Mom rolled her eyes at her and reached up to mess with my hair.

"He will _always_ be my baby. _Always."_

"Mooooom," I complained, "Stop messing with my hair." She frowned at me,

"You're my baby. I can do whatever I want."

* * *

Victoria said to refer to her as "Victoria" on set and also just to dress like I'd normally dress. She said her boss, the one that loves ecstasy, thinks I'm perfect.

I almost had to physically restrain mom and mother so they wouldn't mess with my makeup.

"You need to do your eyebrows more, bolder." Mom told me,

"Less eyeshadow." Mother and mom bickered about the eyeshadow forever. They are both so different when it comes to makeup and hair.

"Daaaan why'd you straighten your hair! Your curls are so beautiful!"

"That's it!" I shouted, my mascara brush still held up to my face. I didn't dare look away from the mirror.

"Everyone out, now." I was surprised to see they both listened and shuffled out of the room with sour faces.

 

It was colder out now, finally acting like it's suppose to. I had on a dark maroon dress that would look better if I had giant boobs but whatever, black leggings, maroon boots that folded down stylishly, and a cute light dead pine needle colored jacket. My makeup was light too, white eyeshadow and coral lip gloss. It doesn't sound like it goes together, but I've been saving this outfit for a while.

"When did you get so grown up?" Mom threw her hands onto her face dramatically as mother rubbed her back soothingly.

 

 

 

-

 

After a long day of bullshit, Phil drove me to the studio. He was all nerves for some reason, and finally I knew why. He finally kissed me on the lips outside the studio. Probably ruining lip gloss but whatever.

Men and women were walking around in robes, we passed set after set, some were for porn, which was intimidating to say the least. Finally, right after a BDSM set, Victoria spotted us.

"Dan! Yes! Okay, Melanie!" Victoria screamed down the hall, an older women with hair like the mom from lizzie McGuire came out, she was wearing bright blue pants and a white t-shirt. Fashionable.

"Dan, this is Melanie, she is the brains of the whole operation." Melanie didn't move to shake my hand so I didn't either.

"Victoria! You're right! He's perfect for this. Just, Dan, what you're wearing...I gotta ask a girl got fired last minute and that is her outfit except for the boots, you'll need to change those. Will you fill in for her?"

It didn't really seem like a question so I shrugged and said sure. Melanie smiled and purred a "perfect" at me before screaming down the corridor before another girl came flying down the hallway. I guess that's how things are done around here.

The girl escorted me to the set that looked essentially like I'd be modeling fall clothing. The girl pointed to a pair of boots and I put them on obediently, ignoring how tight they were.

"This is not Emma, where is Emma?" The photography demanded at the girl. The girl looked so done with him at this point.

"Emma was shooting up in the bathrooms and Melanie replaced her with Dan, got a problem asswipe?" The photographer set his jaw and told me to get under the lights, barking several poses for me to do.

 

"Alright, Dan. Lets get you to wardrobe."

 

Wardrobe was underwhelming. A man in his sixties shoved clothes in front of me that fit surprisingly well. The shirt was black with an even blacker swirl on it and the skirt was a short mini that was my mother's favorite deep purple color. Simple black flats lay on the floor by the door. The kind you could buy at Payless but I have no doubt these ones are worth more than the whole Payless company.

 

The set had mirrors, lots of them. The hung on strings cut into diamond shapes. The floor was a deep ocean blue and there was a long rectangle that was covered in black fabric and a cube covered in purple.

The makeup artist took off my makeup in record time and replaced it with smoky eyes and blood red lips. She squeezed some gel into her hand and spiked my hair up, but let a few strands fall loose.

 

"Okay Dan," this photographer already seemed nicer than the last one. I saw Phil in the background, looking stunned at my appearance. He clutched my bag of clothes tightly on his lap, his eyes shifty.

"I need you to lay across the rectangle but have your feet up on the box." After twelve rounds of that one, there were tons of other poses.

"Now I need you to sit on the rectangle and lean on the cube, stare at the camera desperately, but don't move your eyebrows." A strange request but he ate up what I gave him.

"Stand up and stare at the diamonds in wonder."

"Lay on the floor."

"Pick the cube up and pretend like you're going to throw it in anger>"

You'd be surprised by the amount of poses you could do with a cube and diamond mirrors. At five, I told Phil he didn't have to wait for me. He stayed.

By nine, the shoot was over and I was exhausted.

"Nice work, Dan. These will have spots in the next magazine. You did exactly what I needed." Melanie had changed into a hippie Halloween costume and I really couldn't focus on anything she was saying. So I nodded to her and started to head for the dressing room.

"Oh, Dan, you can keep the clothes and shoes. Have a nice night." I grinned at her and walked towards Phil, he was still somehow wide awake.

"Ready to go?" I rested my head on his shoulder momentarily, nodding, making him chuckle. "Okay princess, we gotta walk to the car." I groaned but backed away anyway. "Let's get my star home."

 

-

"Holy SHIT!" Mom screeched as I entered my home where I just wanted peace and quiet. Modeling is hard.

"HOLY SHIT!" Kyla echoed but with more intensity. I had kissed Phil for the second time ever on the lips at the front door, I tried to remember the peace I felt.

Mother sat there, stunned at me.

"You look incredible." Really? Because the lights are hot and I'm probably all sweaty, my smoky eyes are smudged and my hair is still sticking up all over hell.

"Holy shit." Mother mumbled, finally reacting. Just quieter, thank you mother.

Kyla stared at mother in disbelief. Does Kyla ever go home?

"When she swears you know it's serious." I yawned dramatically, bumping a picture frame with my spaghetti arms in the process.

"I'm going to bed, I'm exhausted, night."

"Dan! Talk to us!" But I was already stumbling up the stairs, slipping into my diva role earlier than most.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry chapters are so short. I don't have an excuse, I'm just terrible.

The next week passed and I was indifferent, or at the most a little upset.

Phil and I would text every night, he likes to kiss my cheek and hold my hand. But apparently, he can't even look my way in the halls. It's like I don't exist. And as much as I want to call him out on it, I don't have the courage. I don't want to scare him away and lose whatever, _this,_ is. It's too risky, and despite my best efforts and policy, I've somehow managed to let him get to me.

I was picking the text books off the floor of my sad, battered locker before lunch. I skipped my usual morning trip in an attempt to avoid looking at him and feel the crushing disappointment.  

Kyla looked at me sadly, my outfit today conveyed my mood. She knew everything that was happening with him. I need someone to vent to and Kyla is my absolute best friend. My only friend.

I wore dark skinny jeans today and a purple tank top with a tight black jacket over it. My make up was light and my boots hardly had heels. I just wasn't feeling myself. My parents took notice too but didn't say anything.

"Dan? About Phil...maybe you should-"

"Hooooowellllerrr..." Jocks rounded the corner, yelling howeller and whistling suggestively. Even if I am dressing down today my ass looks good in these jeans. If I ever truly give up it'd be obvious.

Suddenly, testosterone and asshatery surrounded us and Kyla looked ready to start swinging her backpack. If there is one think she hates it's jocks. Which is ironic, because she loves sports so much. I think she is extra defensive because Phil's been an asshole lately. Even if we did text last night, be was weirdly distant.

"Howeller lives up to the name! Well, not the first time..." Jake Mathews haggled the crowd of ignorant fools. I tried to stand like royalty, despite being cornered against lockers. Lockers they tried to shove me into the first day of freshman year. They argued that they were trying to do it like in the films. It didn't go over well with the principal.

"Get out of way, prick." Kyla spat at him, he stepped forward.

"Oooooo, kitten's got claws." Jake made a clawing motion with his hands and Kyla looked ready to deck him. I started to scan the crowd, trying to determine that full problem that we would have to deal with. Towards the back, and also staring at Kyla, stood Phil. I do admit he looked a little uncomfortable, but his eyes were filled with hate as he watched her. I felt nauseous.

"Move." My voice was firm and final and all the guys turned to me, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Howell, just because you act like a chick doesn't mean we'll treat 'ya like one. I'll still pound your ass into the ground." I coughed, staring at him, I started to laugh.

"Nice wording there, genius. But I wouldn't let you near my ass if you paid me." The guys were silent as Jake stared, suddenly, raising his fist. Free smoky eye, and Phil just stood there.

Before the blow could land, Kyla, in her 5'4 glory, kicked Jake Mathews in the balls. Grabbing my hand, she pushed through a freshman boy and pulled us to safety. All the guys were too stunned to notice. Jake was rolling around on the ground, complaining like he had been shot. But Kyla's little feet, clad in neon pink converse that had long sense faded, brought Jake Mathews down with a single blow. My day brightened a little.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate Phil yet? Do you hate me yet?


	13. Chapter 13

A day passed quietly, a week passed uneventfully, and two weeks passed in tears.

Victoria informed me the magazine was to be released that Saturday and Melanie arranged a surprise.

Thursday my books weren't on my locker floor, yet. Phil was standing at his locker with Rachel Tracy pressed up against my own. Handsy, they were both being handsy.

In the past few weeks Phil had been the star of every match and now they were going to states or something. I guess it would make sense that Rachel Tracy would be wearing Phil's jersey over her cheerleading uniform. Head cheerleader and football star, a power couple if I've ever seen one. My textbooks didn't seem all that important.

I was pushing through the crowd slowly, then I was speed walking, and then I was running as fast as my heels would let me.

"Dan?!" I suppose I passed Kyla sometime during my marathon.

I burst into the boys bathroom and locked myself in a stall, puking the contents of my stomach into the dirty toilet. Someone barked at the freshman I passed to get the fuck out and then Kyla was next to me, petting my hair. Tears mixed with vomit and somehow I managed to run my waterproof mascara. The bell rang but I was still retching and I could feel Kyla's shaking over my own. Eventually I had nothing left to give and I collapsed onto the floor in a fit of tears. I think Kyla's tears and mine were making a puddle on the floor. I got vomit on my heels.

* * *

The nurse was kind and let me leave without being picked up. Both of my parents were working anyway.

"Could I leave too? To make sure he gets home alright."

"You may not." The nurse shot at her, looking at Kyla like she was the stupidest person on the planet.

I had to be discharged through the office, dealing with the secretaries ask what happened as small talk made me want to puke again. I haven't done something like that since I was fifteen.

I took my heels off and started walking home barefoot. As I reached the top of the hill, Kyla jumped me.

"Kyla? What are you doing?"

"Ditching!" She replied happily, like it wouldn't result in several detentions.

"You can't just-" She shushed me quickly and handed me a stick of gum. I accepted it gratefully.

"Yes I can. It's well overdue."

Kyla has been protesting by not going to the games. Which is extremely hard for her. She says she can't enjoy the game when all the players are "Little fuckers." I know she listen's to it on the radio though.

 

"Did you see it?" I finally asked, the elephant was standing on my flat chest.

"Yeah, I heard rumors before too. I didn't want to upset you unless they were true."

"I really thought he liked me. He kissed me, more than once. We slept together!"

"You slept with him?" Her accusing voice pierced the quiet Thursday morning, disrupting a man mowing his lawn.

"No, not that way. Just...sleep. In his bed." She knows how I feel about that. Cuddling is more intimate than sex.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what his problem is, I really don't."

"We haven't spoken in so long. There wasn't even an official sever, he just stopped texting." Kyla shook her head and linked her arm through mine.

"I outta-"

"No, Kyla. He has a reason, he just hasn't voiced it. Who cares? I'll move on, like I did with Voldemort." Voldemort is what we call the guy who made me decide that cuddling is more intimate than sex.

She nodded at me, but she was unconvinced. I didn't have the energy to continuously repeat that I'm fine. So I split from her and told her I want to be alone and she watched me go.

 

_Weigh us down, we're in love._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italics and bold, this chapter is a mess. Also short chapters because I am me. I am short so I try and make things relatable.

I made Kyla report everything to me that day, no matter how gruesome, as I hid under my dozen comforters and my mother's concerned glances. Mom has a big trial. Statutory rape or something. She sends her love and her chicken soup for the gods.

 **Kyla:** They're holding hands, Phil's mostly texting tho

 **Kyla:** Rachel is kissing his neck, we're in fucking physics she needs to chill

 **Kyla:** They both left really quickly I saw Rachel pull him into the closet where he already lives

 **Kyla:** sHE JUST GAVE JAKE MATHEWS MONEY WHAT

 **Kyla:**  ok so I might be stalking her

 **Me:** No need, thank you, my wonderful reporter.

 

I really need to change my pillow case.

Why is it so grey outside?

 

* * *

I guess night fell sometime because I woke up with Kyla sitting at the foot of my bed with the biggest grin on her face I've ever seen. Mother was standing over her with mom and they were holding something close to their chests.

 

"Victoria said there was going to be a surprise." Mom squealed as she handed over the magazine. _Forward Fashion,_ probably the most popular clothing magazine of the time. Every girl at school carries a copy religiously, and there I was, on the fucking cover. One hell of a surprise. I was leaning against the cube with my legs stretching down the rectangle. The colors popped and I looked... _flawless._

I really suit spiky hair.

"The editor of the whole bloody magazine liked you so much she put you on the cover, I guess the other photoshoot with some diva didn't go over well so here you are."

By the end of the day everyone at school will know about this, there is no escaping it.

"Two things," mother started, attempting to keep her tone neutral. "One, Victoria wants you in for another shoot tonight, something edgy, was all she said."

"TWO" Kyla butted it, yelling. "You're trending on twitter!" She practically threw her phone at me.

 

_**@basicbitch19** _

_**Who is she?** _

 

_**@Walterfuckyou** _

_**Fuckable** _

 

_**@Sherlock4lyfe** _

_**Amazing, love the about the model too!!!** _

 

The tweets went on but I felt sick so I handed the phone back to Kyla.

"On page twelve there is more pictures, and a little blurb about you."

"I didn't give them any information-" But mom started reading anyway.

 

_Daniel Howell is a sixteen-year-old up-and-coming model. Despite being a cis male, he wears what is to be considered "female clothing." For his first photoshoot, he already has the talent of a professional. This will not be last we see of Daniel Howell._

 

I smirked at the writer's wording, yeah Phil. This won't be the last time you see me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have twitter so I don't know exactly how it works. I made up the usernames. If they are yours than damn that's pretty cool.


	15. Chapter 15

Rachel Tracey is famous for nothing. She's just Rachel Tracey. Brown hair, blue eyes. Nice complexion. Decent human being, no reason to hate her.

Some girls are famous for being artists or sleeping with the entire football team, some are famous for being rich or insanely nice.

Rachel Tracey isn't any of those things. She's just Rachel Tracey. Cheerleader, homecoming queen our freshman year, middle class family.

Maybe there is more to her than those things, maybe under all that there is some depth. Maybe that's why Phil chose her. Maybe she's better at thinking than I am. I am famous for being scatter-brained.

Dan Howell.

_Fag._

_Tranny._

_Queer._

_Dyke?_

_Trash._

_Fat ass._

_Lesbian._

_Fuck up._

_Idiot._

_Ugly._

 

Model.

 

I wore my red pea coat, because I knew I'd be getting attention anyway. I wore black leggings and a flowy brown skirt with a cream button down top under it. Creamy eyeshadow and neutral velvety lipstick. I held my head up high.

 

I turned heads. Not to be unexpected. A lot more happened than the front page of the magazine. It got printed online as well, to be expected, it is 2016. The photos went viral, because I'm a boy in a skirt and heels.

Cherry red heels today. I forgot to mention that. They don't really match the outfit, but when I wear them I feel like I eat men's skulls for breakfast. I need that kind of confidence today. My anxiety was teetering on the edge, attention at school is one thing, but global? I almost vomited this morning.

 

"Tranny." A lanky nerd sneered. It's weird when its not the usual jocks, but some skinny nerdy boy with acne and bullies of his own.

 

Kyla hissed at the boy, making him look afraid. Women are always their weakness. And Kyla isn't just a women, she's a goddess.

 

Phil was at his locker, he was looking at me, so was Rachel Tracey. Bran flakes, she reminds me of bran flakes. It's mean, because I think it was her who was bullied in fourth grade because her scalp was a fucking winter wonderland all the time.

I calmly bent down and grabbed my textbooks, avoiding Phil's gaze. I swapped out a couple books too, taking my sweet time. Now he's the one who's paying for it. _Roll in it, prick._

 

I slammed my locker shut, the sound getting lost in the busy hallways. Not so crowded, but they never are on Monday's.

As I passed them, I caught a glimpse of Bran Flake's arms, she was holding a copy of the magazine, and her face was full of awe. God, I wish I could hate her.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

Strike while the iron is hot, Melanie's words and everyone was happy with it. I did so many god damn photoshoots, and the popularity wasn't slowing down. Melanie says this many copies haven't been sold since 1999 when the magazine came out.

I had been stopped in the street many times and asked for photos, its so fucking strange, but mom loves it, she beams at me every time, and mother isn't much better.

"You've got to make a twitter."

"I really don't-"

"You have to, Melanie's orders. You can interact with your fans better. Post selfies of your own outfits. It's good for your own career, even past the magazine." Victoria raised her eyebrows at me as if she was saying I'd be modeling forever. Hell, at this rate I would. I'm as rich as my loaded as fuck parents. It's crazy, as it's only been a couple of months.

Not once has Victoria and I discussed Phil. I'm glad. It's still raw, even if it wasn't an official breakup. We were never officially anything. His fame was building too. The season ended but Phil managed to bring the school every shiny trophy ever.

I made the twitter, and I did the one thing that I haven't done yet, I watched the critic videos. Kyla told me it's a stupid idea, but she watched them with me. Saving me from myself.

 

_"He just wants attention,"_

_"Well, duh. That's what models do."_

_"Yeah, but he doesn't actually dress that way. It's just so he'll be noticed. No man does that."_

_"There's photos of him going back to age fourteen of him dressing this way."_

_"It's a ploy, you know the type. Hungry for the camera. We've seen it before and this is a perfect example."_

I appreciated the other guy, who was being kind and shooting down everything the jerk was saying. Jerks don't care. They're always right anyway.

 

_"A tranny, it's the only explanation! No man dresses this way. I don't care what he's said. These are-"_

 

"Alright!" Kyla forcibly closed out of the window. "There's some videos I want you to see."

 

_"Dan Howell is my inspiration. He is an openly homosexual teenager and he dresses feminine. As a gender fluid person, it is nice to see things like this. And props to the magazine for doing something this way. Even if he disappears in a few years, I will never forget him and what he has done."_

 

_"Dan Howell is the reason I started dressing the way I am comfortable with. I am transgender and I think that even if Dan isn't, it is still amazing that he is expressing himself."_

 

_"I started to wear my sister's dresses after she passed away last year and my mom took me out shopping a month ago to get some of my own. I am a cis male but I love how dresses make me look. Dan is the reason my mom took me out, you're amazing, Dan Howell."_

 

There were so many more, so many fucking more and then I was sobbing into Kyla's tacky cardigan, ruining it with mascara.

"You are so loved, Daniel Howell. Don't listen to the ignorant sausages." Kyla stroked my hair as I started to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did I do with this anyway? There probably isn't going to be that many chapters left. Depending on how everything goes. Thanks for reading.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so cold in my room, my hands are freezing. It's slowing me down.

Victoria rushed me when I got to the studio the following Friday. I had an interview, on fucking TV. My mom nearly fainted when I told her. I feel like her and mother are getting tired of me running around all the time. Mom does enough of it for the whole family.

So I brushed my hair and put on a red sweater dress and leggings. She told me to show up without any makeup on.

 

Kyla didn't give me time to have an anxiety attack. She sat next to me in the car and held my hand. She'd sit backstage and watch, and then we'd get dinner with Victoria after and take the tube home. Mother was working late at the boutique and mom was, well, mom. Sleeping. She just got off a huge murder case that she lost. She is always so sad when she loses, like she just lost the world to a dictator. A murderer didn't get charged, and she cried herself to sleep last night.

 

Victoria met me at the gate, the wind was whipping, causing my skin to turn as red as my dress.

"Perfect, right on time." She ushered Kyla and I inside where it was warm. Victoria has involuntarily become my agent through all this, and she's a damn good one. Even if I think of Phil every time I see her.

Victoria's long hair was somehow held up in chopsticks and she had on a pantsuit. Something my mom would wear and fuck _up_ a courtroom. It's crazy, having a lawyer for a parent.

"One thing, and I'm so sorry about this-"

"Your on in thirty minutes, get your makeup done." Some short kid barked at us, he ran off looking stressed. Cute.

Victoria had us power walking again, to the back room, they won't let me do my own makeup, which I hate. I feel weird with people near my face and neck area. It's a personal space thing.

"It's-" Her voice was cut off by a loud giggling bouncing off the walls of the whole goddamn building as she pushed open the heavy doors to my dressing room.

 

Phil and Rachel Tracey were seated in the two seats in _my_ dressing room. What kind of set up-

"Finally!" A short blonde guy in his late twenties stared at my outfit, snapping his fingers. "Makeup, and I have a sheer brown scarf to wear with that. Don't worry, honey. It'll work, get seated. I'm Antonio."

Antonio didn't give me a chance to react to the intruders.

"Head up, you have beautiful skin." Antonio gushed as he ran a brush across my "beautiful skin." I could stare at Phil because of the giant mirror with lights all around.

He was...staring at me? He looked so sad.

No.

NO.

No.

 

I ignored Phil and saw that Kyla was standing there awkwardly. For once, she looked like she had nothing to do with herself.

"Kyla, why don't you sit down?" Her head snapped up and met my eyes in the mirror, she looked like a deer in headlights. One thing about Kyla is, she doesn't like to ask for things. Whether your best friends or complete strangers, she'd rather drown than ask to get on your lifeboat.

"There isn't any more chairs-"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Rachel Tracey popped into our conversation out of know where, sort of like how she popped into our lives. "You can have my chair!"

Rachel Tracey stood up hastily, walked a half a step, and sprawled herself across Phil's lap.

"It's not like we aren't used to it anyway."

There was that anxiety attack.

 

"Straight people." Antonio muttered in annoyance as he placed fake lashes on me.

Kyla noticed my face, because she walked over to my chair and leaned against the makeup table, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Ignore them." She mumbled, smiling slightly. Rachel didn't get off his lap.

Antonio was obviously annoyed by her presence, with her in his workspace. He must have noticed the change in my face though, because he didn't make her move.

 

Soon enough, another assistant came by and yelled five minutes and Kyla still hadn't let go of my hand. I didn't want her to, I can't deal with the absence.

Antonio finished my lip gloss and through that sheer brown scarf at me, and he was right, it did work.

Soon enough, Victoria was back, dressed like a journalist missing a dead line.

"You're on. She's waiting for you."

 

We were all standing at the stage entrance. The talk show host, Annie, was introducing me to the camera. Victoria looked like a proud mother, Phil looked worried, and Rachel looked at Phil. 

"Dan? Can we talk after-"

"And here he is--Dan Howell!" The crowd started clapping and I looked back at him momentarily. He wasn't interested until this happened, the "fame." Well, he was before. Maybe. But then suddenly I was six day old summer trash.

So I just shrugged at him and I felt the heartbreak all over again as I smiled at the cameras and walked on stage.

 

* * *

Two minutes into the interview I decided that I wanted to kill myself. The interviewer was being sort of rude in a very subtle way. Condescending, like the ladies my mother makes dresses for. They sit in a circle and drink tea, all. day.

 

"So, Dan." She had already asked me how long I'd been dressing like this, and about modeling. It's suppose to be a quick interview. I'm not sure what else she has to ask.

"So, Annie." I said back, the crowd laughed and she smiled at me. Be charming. Phil's better at that than I am.

"Are you seeing anyone?" The crowd did the typical oooing as they're suppose to do, and I just smiled and fake laughed.   

"No, no. Not right now." She made a pouty face, and the crowd laughed again. A three-year-old wouldn't laugh at that.

"Oh, come on Dan. You're a charming young man, you've got to have someone!"

"No, no. Not many guys are fans of boys who dress like "girls." I made sure to do the air quotes around girls.

"I'm sure that's not true! Come on, give us something! When was the last time you were in a relationship?"

I started to pretend like I was thinking hard. Phil and I never defined, we just...yeah.

I looked for a second back stage and caught Phil's eye. "Oh, It's been a couple years."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best.


	18. Chapter 18

Kyla and I rode home in silence that night. When I got off stage, Phil was gone and Rachel was looking around the building for him. Victoria was texting, but refusing to look at Rachel.

I denied Victoria's request of dinner, I just wanted to go home and have a girls' night with Kyla.

"God, I can't wait to take this fucking bra off." Kyla complained loudly, pulling at her side. Two old ladies were seated across from us. One of them was glaring at Kyla like Kyla just said macaroni and cheese should be illegal. The other one smiled at Kyla,

"Sweetie, me too!"

Kyla smiled at her and repeatedly hit my arm when the lady turned away.

 

Five minutes later, the train was mostly empty except for two girls. They were giggling and staring, and Kyla's evil glaring didn't faze them.

"Hi I'm sorry." One of the girls started, the train lurched forward and she fell into a pole, thankfully not eating it. "Are you Dan Howell?" The other girl finished as the other sorted themselves out.

"Yes, can I help you?" The taller girl squealed,

"Can I have a hug please?"  
  
"And AND a picture?" The other stuttered adorably. They looked really close to my age.

 

I took pictures with both girls and they had this dreamy look in their eye. It made the trip home less dismal.

 

* * *

As soon as we were in front of my house, my phone dinged, and then it did again, and again, and again. Too quick for me to even see who it is.

Double texter.

 

**Phil: I'm sorry.**

**Phil: I really have to talk to you.**

**Phil: I have to explain.**

**Phil: Just let me give an explanation.**

**Phil: I miss you.**

**...**

**Phil: I'll be on the roof all night, come over if you will hear me out.**

 

"Is he fucking _insane?"_ I screeched into the entrance of my home. My mom was stirring something that looked suspiciously like coffee. Mother gets really angry when mom drinks coffee at night. She was in her panda pj pants and her hair was all over the place.

 

"What?"

 

I looked from my mom, then to Kyla, then to my phone. Repeating the action several times, I decided Phil really was insane.

"I have to go."

"What? Where are you going? You can't go out this late!"

"I need to, mom!"

"No means no, Daniel."

I stared from her to the cup and smirked at her. _Got her._

"If you don't let me go, I'll tell mother that you drank coffee at ten at night." Her eyes widened at me, I know what that means for her. No sex for a month. And even though I'd much prefer that, it's my only leverage.

Mom nodded at me and I opened the door, it was starting to snow. I pulled on a knit brown hat and shoved another into my pocket, knowing Phil probably hadn't thought to.

"At least tell me where you are going!"

"To hear out a crazy person."

 

* * *

 The rust screeched horrifically as I climbed the old fire escape, grateful I didn't wear heels this time.

It was _freezing_ out here. Phil can't stay out here all night. Even if he's up here to call me names and tell me he never liked me, I have to get him off the roof.

Oh god, what if that is what he has to say?  
But then again why would he call me to a roof of all places to do it?

To trick me?

Maybe he has all his jock buddies recording for a good laugh.

Would Phil really do that?

Do I really know him?

I was standing at the top of the final fire escape, I could see just a little on the roof. I scanned it quickly.

A silhouette came into view, sitting on the edge of the building with their feet dangling off and head turned to the sky.

Yes, I do know him.

I took a step onto the old concrete, and started power walking toward him, almost breaking out into a run.   

He's Phil Lester, fucking queen of sports.

He's the boy that makes all my books have a thousands dents and tears in them.

The one who let me cuddle up next to him in his bed.

The one who listened to my bullshit late-night talking, and was in awe.

The one who loves cheek kisses, and said he'd count the stars for me if I asked.

 

"Dan?" Phil turned around and scrambled up, god he was so close to the edge. I moved to I'd be close to edge too, so it's even. But I wouldn't sit down, this is a standing confrontation.

God, it's so much colder up here. It's so much more final. This is where we started, with a joint with red lipstick on the end.

"I broke up with Rachel."

"Okay." Silence.

"Please let me explain it, let me explain all of it."

"That's why I'm here." He was stuttering and shivering and I wanted to forgive him right there.

"I was blackmailed. It was mostly Wendell Harris, but the whole team. We were-we were getting dressed after practice and you sent me winky faces.  I had your name surrounded by hearts in the contact. The guys, well, they weren't happy. Took my phone, read the messages. Wendell Harris said that "we don't have your kind on the team."

Phil does a pretty good impression of Wendell Harris.

"Coach will kick you out for sure, they said. He's a bigger homophobe than Hitler, they said. Over the course of a, god, I don't even know how long. It was an eternity, I stopped talking to you altogether. God, it hurt so much. So fucking much, Dan. Every time the phone dinged I cried. Vicky was getting sick of me." Phi laughed a little and wiped his eyes, he was crying. It's too cold for that.

"They said Rachel Tracey likes me and I have to go out with her, or else. God, I don't know why. I don't know why I chose the sport over you. I just-it was my whole life, you know? My future, college entry. My parents..." Phil laughed and shook his head, his voice broke.

"They won't help me out for college. Not since they saw the picture of me kissing Bennett, my ex, on my phone. God, he was a jerk too. Fuck, I'm Bennett." Phil shook his head and sniffled, I stayed silent.

"I-it was too much. It's not worth it now, and I can fight them anyway. They can't discriminate. And I-it hurts so much. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. When the modeling started I had a break down, Vicky held me crying all night and the next day. I couldn't stop. I don't even-no guy, has _ever_ gotten under my skin like you. I'm sorry, I just, I needed to tell you this. I understand if you hate me."

 

God, what do I even say to that? He hurt me so bad. It wasn't even all at once, he drug it out. We were both suffering at the same time, over each other. My heart told me to hold him in the freezing weather until we both froze into statues, forever intertwined to suffer the torment of lovers' misfortune.

 

"Phil, you hurt me so bad. And what they did was not right. I understand where you are coming from, I understand, okay? These last few months have been hell, truly. I haven't had heartbreak like that, well, ever. Not even...he's not the focus. I'm sorry they did this to you. And I forgive you." I didn't know what else to say. This is the part in the movies when the straight couples kiss, right?

"Can-can I-?" He was thinking the same thing as me, and I nodded.

The snow pooled around our feet, but we were both warm to the touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, one more chapter and maybe an epilogue. I'm a slut for an epilogue.


	19. Chapter 19

Phil's breathing was uneven as he held my hand in the car outside the school. This school, that caused me so much torment and heartbreak. Walls, painted the color of SpongeBob Squarepants's cum. Ugly yellow tiles on the second and third floor because they ran out of money halfway through the renovations back in the 90s. The whole building is a mistake.

The students, never taught any manners, never shown any love and are incapable of giving it as a result. Or maybe not all of them, because Phil is filled with so much love, so much.

Kyla sat in the back seat, we were both dressed for war. It was too cold for my "battle dress," as Kyla calls it, so I wore black skinny jeans, a black tank top, and a leather jacket over it. My eyeliner was so winged, I could fly Phil and I away from all the horror, all the heartbreak.

"We have to go in eventually." Phil whispered, squeezing my hand slightly. He was so jittery, he is the one who wanted to do this in the first place.

"We don't have to do this today. If you aren't ready that's perfectly alright. I just want you to be comfortable."

"No, it's time. I love you."

"I love you too." Kyla started making gagging noises, probably to lighten the mood, neither of us laughed. We just stared at each other.

"Beautiful." We cooed in unison. The same amount of love littered both of our voices.

"Okay, that was just creepy guys. What the fuck." Kyla made Phil giggle that time, making me smile. He makes me so happy. Now, weeks ago his name would've made me sob. Kyla knows this, and she hasn't completely forgiven him, not yet. She thinks I'm a fool for letting him off so easy, and maybe I am. I'm a fool in love.

 

* * *

 

 

We didn't get an immediate reaction. Two emo freshman girls grinned at us, that was about it. Until we got to my locker. I still haven't told Phil about the effect he has on my locker, I just rushed to get my books out first.

When we were done, our hands linked again, and we were surrounded. Kyla had her teeth barred, she's a damn good guard dog.

"Ian just texted coach everything. You'll never play again, you disgusting fuck."

"Don't worry, you ignorant slob. This won't be last you hear of me. Besides, you'll never when another game without me. I'm the best player since that girl in the seventies. Say goodbye to your trophies, prick."

Phil suddenly pulled me close to him, kissing me fiercely. The guys backed off, Kyla actually snarled at one.

"Phil, that was really hot." He smirked at me and slammed his locker shut. I cringed as I heard the one book in there topple to the floor. Maybe it wasn't that hot.


	20. Epilogue

"Dan Howell!" The principal called, I made my way up to the stage, walking elegantly in my black heels.

"Yeah, HOWELLER!" The entire football team yelled as I shook the principal's hand. Mother jumped at their outburst, and mom was screaming right along with them, snapping pictures without looking at her phone.

I took my diploma and walked down the stairs again, the guys were still hooting, a lot has happened since Phil and I came out. Well, since Phil came out.

Next football season was senior year. Phil got a full scholarship for college if he played football his senior year to, one problem, the coach.

The coach kicked him off the team without a second thought, Jake Mathews laughing in his face as it happened.

Then, something remarkable happened. Victoria, and Phil's parents were arguing with the school board. Phil's _parents._ Who were, I guess abusive, because his dad a cocaine addiction. Phil told me all this one drunken night the summer after junior year.

The coach was fired, for discriminating against Phil. The new coach kicked Jake Mathews off the team not long after. Phil and the team became pretty close after that, and I was "Lester's hot boyfriend."

I took my seat next to my own hot boyfriend.

"Sabrina Karen." I cringed as I heard her name called. That should be Kyla's place. She should be here graduating with us. The wound is still raw.

August before senior year, Kyla announced she would be getting her GED and dropping out. It happened incredibly fast, and then suddenly she was in America working in Hollywood. Eighteen and on her own. She never was particularly close with her mother. My parents were her parents. She's still in California, she's an assistant to some director. She should be here. Graduating with Phil and I, like how it was suppose to be. We dreamed of this moment when we were children.

"Phil Lester!" I went deaf, I went bloody deaf the guys were yelling so fucking loud. Victoria whipped her head around and yelled at them to shush, and they did. She has that effect on people. Phil's parents weren't here, even if they fought for his right to play football, they still disapproved of him, of our relationship.

Phil got his diploma and that was it, we weren't dependents anymore. Mom was crying and hugging mother. Mother, surprisingly, had tears in her eyes too. They kind of adopted Phil, like they did Kyla.

"Hey." I heard whispered next to me, "What's with all the crying, you're free!"

"Kyla?" Kyla was squatted next to my chair, beaming at me. She looked good, really good. California sun, hair now dyed blonde.

"It's not that hard, being an adult."

"Kyla!" Phil and I screeched, jumping out of our chairs and tackling her, ruining someone else's graduating.

"Quiet down back there!" We stood up, and fuck, we were done. There wasn't a reason to spend another minute on this bullshit campus. With one final salute, Phil, Kyla, and I left, arms linked, walking staggered.  

 

* * *

Phil and I had our arms linked, standing in the kitchen of Ian Roberts  for a post-graduating party.

"Well, we have tonight, and we're already packed so we have tomorrow too, then we leave the following day." I was wearing a one-strapped, shiny red party dress and Phil couldn't stop staring at my ass in it. Mission accomplished.

"You guys already have everything laid out like a married couple, good luck man." Ian clapped Phil on the back and stumbled out of the kitchen.

In two days, Phil would be flying out to Milan with me for the summer. The modeling doesn't appear to be stopping anytime soon, and at this point, I don't want it to. I still model for Fashion Forward, but I'm also freelance. I'm walking the runway in some fancy summer issue of some magazine I can't pronounce. Victoria is coming too. She can speak fluent Italian, and I've learned some. It's hard when you already know three languages, they get mixed up.

Anyway, at the end of august, we're flying back to London and going to college. Phil's going for history, and playing football. I'm getting a degree in fashion studies and cosmetology, just in case modeling doesn't last.

July is when all the fashion "things" happen, we're just going early because, well, why not. It's Italy, and we're free.

"We are kind of a married couple." He murmured against my lips.

"Mmmmm, only one thing missing, Lester."

That's when I felt the hard, square box in his jean pocket.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank you all for the kind messages. If it hadn't been for them, I probably wouldn't have continued this story. It all means so much to me, thank you so much.


End file.
